


A Dance of Joy and Love

by spinner33



Series: Coda to 5.7 [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Coda to 5.7, Hug Therapy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 11:38:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4744916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda to 5.7: Steve doesn't remember what happened.  Danny is grateful for small blessings.  At first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Danny Williams knew from his years in law enforcement that the only thing more degrading than being physically assaulted and tortured was then having to relive the experience over and over again for every police officer and medical person who felt they had a right to invade your privacy to fill the pages of their case file. Having to re-examine every micro-second of the most humiliating experience of your life only quadrupled the lingering trauma from the initial incident. Danny was gritting his teeth and girding himself for what the next few hours might bring. 

Except it didn’t happen. 

McGarrett slipped into auto pilot once Danny and Chin brought him out of his wretched, dank dungeon. Steve centered his dead gaze on the floor. He saw nothing. He said nothing. He had little or no reaction to what was going on around him or to him. It was as if he were made of stone. Danny understood that Steve had had to zone out to deal with everything, or it could have overwhelmed him. Give him a few hours, and his guard would come down again, and then he could start to deal with what had happened. 

Except that didn’t happen. 

“It’s gonna be okay. I promise. Hang in there. Almost done.” 

Danny repeated those encouragements probably a thousand times over the next few hours as he hovered next to his partner, even held his hand when he was allowed to do so. Hours had passed, and Steve’s guard wasn’t coming down. Danny remained by his side while the others went back to process the scene for evidence. The ER techs came in and out of the tiny, curtained area, tending this injury or that injury, clucking and tutting and cooing like a bunch of big birds in white and blue scrubs. Nothing was done with a sense of urgency. Danny couldn’t understand why they didn’t speed up the process so Steve could finally get some rest. When one of the attendants came back bearing a hospital gown, Danny filled with dread. He had been hoping to take Steve home. It wasn’t a big surprise that Dr. Weimer wanted to admit Steve to the hospital, but Danny was sure this wasn’t going to go well. He expected Steve to start yelling and screaming, protesting that he was fine, that he wanted to leave, and he wanted to leave now! 

Except he didn’t. 

“We’re going to keep you for now, Commander. I’m going to put this on you. If you could step outside, sir?” 

The attendant gave Danny an impatient stare and waited, arms crossed over her chest. He gave her a perplexed look, aghast at the words that had spilled so casually out of her mouth. She pointed him away, as if he were too dumb to have taken a verbal hint. Danny stared at the perky little attendant, and her button-nose, and her curly hair. She was starting to grin at him, and it pissed him off royally. Her bossy attitude rubbed him entirely the wrong way. What the hell was she smiling about? Did she not comprehend the gravity of the situation? Was this all a fucking joke to her? Did she not understand what had happened to Steve, everything that he had gone through? Danny wanted to scream at her, to lash out, and maybe even slap her. How dare she barge in here, after what Steve had been through, and tell him ‘we’re going to keep you’? Was she trying to make him snap and have a PTSD moment? 

“Gimme that,” Danny muttered, snatching the gown away from the attendant. “How old are you? 12? Get out of here. Go pass out some lollipops in the children’s ward. You haven’t got any business undressing traumatized people. Don’t you have any sensitivity, or any goddamn decency?!” 

The attendant stuck both hands on her hips. 

“I’m not 12! I’m 22!”

“I said get the fuck out of here!” Danny shouted angrily. 

The attendant was gone in a flash. Danny didn’t care if he had offended her. He pulled the curtain all the way around, shielding the curious eyes which had turned this way after his outburst. One second, he couldn’t have cared less, and the next, he was burning with shame. He sat down on the side of the tiny bed, embarrassed for how he had acted. He was clutching the flimsy gown, not sure what to do next. He realized Steve was staring fearfully at him. The second he noticed though, those eyes dropped down again.

“Babe, they wanna keep you overnight. You good with that?” Danny asked. 

McGarrett nodded without meeting Danny’s anxious gaze. Danny rubbed his arm, unbelievably glad for even the smallest indication that his partner understood what was going on. Danny was so glad that he pressed for even more. 

“Are you sure? You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, babe. You give me the word, and I’ll stand you up and walk you right out through the front door. Though overnight only, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad?” William suggested with a careful wince. 

Steve rasped, and managed to lift one shoulder. That might have been a shrug. He put a shaking hand on the edge of the gown. His nails were caked with blood and dirt. 

“Is that a ‘yes’ to overnight?” Danny whispered. 

Steve managed a slow nod. He was barely upright at this point. Maybe McGarrett was smart enough to realize he wasn’t going anywhere, even with Danny’s help. 

“May I undress you?” Danny asked. 

Steve nodded slowly again. Danny stood up, lifting one of Steve’s bruised and blood-stained arms. McGarrett’s wide-blown pupils and lost gaze made Danny ache. Williams pulled the gown up one arm, then the other, lacing it together in the back. He helped Steve stand beside the bed on wobbling legs, and coaxed him out of his sodden clothes. If it weren’t for the fact the clothes might be needed as evidence, he would have thrown them away right there. Danny retrieved a blanket from the end of the bed, and wrapped it around Steve’s shaking shoulders. 

“You should rest. I’m sure they’ll move you upstairs soon. But get some sleep until then,” Danny murmured, easing Steve back up into the bed. 

McGarrett balled up on his side, made himself as small as possible. The trembling didn’t stop. Danny found another blanket, and covered Steve’s bare legs. Williams put one hip against the side of the bed, and put an arm around Steve, hovering protectively. Anyone who might have been offended, they could go to hell, as far as Danny was concerned. All Danny cared about right now was making Steve feel safe enough that he might get some rest. Danny might have nosed a kiss or two into his hair while whispering comforting words. Might have teared up when one blood-stained hand clutched the material of his dress shirt and held tight. 

Steve slept for twelve hours straight. Danny never left his side. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The private room was nice. No one could come or go from this floor without punching in a code, unless they went out the windows and down five floors of the building. Dr. Weimer’s office was at the end of the hall. Steve was right next door to her office. The doctor checked on him every two hours through the night into the next day. Danny knew this because he stayed beside Steve. He would have crawled in bed with him and held him like a little child if he thought he could get away with it. 

The next day, Chin brought Danny fresh clothes from home, and a methodical report detailing all the evidence they had recovered from the filthy, dank basement room where Steve had been held. Danny couldn’t bear to read the entire report. He threw the heavy folder across the room, and let the pages lay where they fell. Sat beside Steve’s bed and cried quietly to himself. When Dr. Weimer came in, she collected the upsetting pages, and she made them disappear. 

Danny liked the way Dr. Weimer spoke to Steve. There was something very comforting about her. He wondered what the personal connection might have been. There had to be some reason why she was being so nice to them both, complete strangers to her. Had they met her before? The chances were good, considering how often Steve was in the hospital. 

A trip through the doctor’s private office to use the washroom answered that question. Pictures in a closed display case caught his eye. It didn’t take more than ten seconds to put it all together. Dr. Weimer had once had a son with her brown hair and green eyes. There were pictures of him in battle fatigues in a desert environment. There was also a folded flag, a set of battle-damaged, partially-melted dog tags, and a Purple Heart medal. Dr. Weimer must have lost her son to war, and taking care of other soldiers, other mother’s sons, it made her feel closer to her own boy. Caring for them was a healing process for her own grief. When Danny returned to Steve’s room, Dr. Weimer was standing beside the bed, speaking softly about the weather forecast, rubbing on her stethoscope end to warm it up. 

“Think I’ll take my grandson out to the beach this evening. Can’t keep that kid out of the water. You can’t tell it from in here, but out there, it’s sunny and mild, mid-70’s. Do you want me to raise the shades, Commander? Bring some daylight in here for you?” 

“No,” Steve murmured quietly. 

What Danny liked best was that Dr. Weimer did not disturb Steve without telling him exactly what was going to happen. Danny cleared his throat, and smiled at Dr. Weimer, with her gentle voice and even-more-gentle demeanor.

“Commander, I want to listen to your lungs. Can you sit up for me?” 

Steve nodded, shivering involuntarily at the touch on his neck. Dr. Weimer noted his reaction, and warmed the stethoscope again. 

“I’m sorry. Is it too cold?” she asked. She listened through the gown this time. 

“What’s wrong, Doc?” Danny asked. 

“Call me ‘Fran’,” she replied. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Dr. Weimer was a very bad liar. 

“I need to listen. Can you hold still for me, hon?” Fran murmured. 

Steve tried hard to quell his trembling. The doctor came around the bed, and touched Steve’s chest instead, listening through his gown. Danny stood at the near side of the bed, watching Steve’s face, resisting the urge to reach out for his hand. Her touch was non-threatening, and yet he was barely sitting still for it. 

“Breathe normally, Commander.” 

“I am,” McGarrett mouthed the words. 

“Sorry about the ‘hon’. It’s a Baltimore thing. Hard habit to break.”

Steve gave a tiny hint of a smile, and relaxed just a tiny bit. 

“Have you ever been there?” Dr. Weimer asked.

Steve nodded. 

“Of course. You’re Navy. You must have been to Baltimore, if only out of morbid curiosity. It’s right up the road from Naptown.”

Steve coughed up a tiny chuckle. Danny’s heart warmed at the sight of that. 

“Naptown?” Danny asked. 

“Annapolis,” Steve explained. 

“You and your buddies did a few pub crawls through Fells Point?” the doctor asked.

Steve nodded. 

“You should go back and visit sober sometime. There’s a lot of important history there. Francis Scott Key. Edgar Allan Poe. Fort McHenry. I miss it some days. Hawaii might be Paradise, but there’s no place like home.” 

Steve’s humor faded away into sadness again. 

“All the shrimp you can eat, but you can’t get a decent crab cake out here,” she complained with a sigh. 

After a few moments, Dr. Weimer motioned for Danny to follow her into the hallway. Danny watched Steve through the glass in the top half of the door.

“The Commander is exhibiting secondary drowning symptoms, and I think he has the beginnings of an ear infection. He’s inhaled water into his lungs. The symptoms should clear up in a few days. I’m going to start him on some antibiotics. We need to make sure his core body temperature stays stable. I’ll send more blankets to his room. Keep him warm. Keep him sleeping on his side. Monitor his breathing.”

“You’re saying he almost drowned? When was he in the water?” Danny asked. Inside the room, Steve was chewing his nails, hooded eyes searching the hospital room, taking in the lay of the doors and windows, counting the number of tiles on the floor even. “Doc, how did he almost drown in a basement room nowhere near the ocean?” Danny asked. 

Dr. Weimer didn’t answer. She looked embarrassed and sad. She clearly hoped she wouldn’t have to explain. Realization was settling into the cracks and crevices of Danny’s soul the same way spilled blood drips and spreads at a crime scene, getting into all those places you can’t see, where it can never be washed out again, no matter how much bleach and water and scrubbing. 

Danny remembered something he had seen in Chin’s evidence report – there had been a hose, a bucket, soaked rags. Coupled with the electrical burn marks on Steve’s torso, the use of restraints, the use of sleep deprivation, and the blood tests which had shown McGarrett had been injected with chemicals to make him more suggestible to enhanced interrogation and questioning, it didn’t take Danny too long to come up with the answer to his own question: Steve had been waterboarded. 

Danny pushed both hands back through his hair and put his butt against the wall, breathing deeply between his knees for a few seconds before he could straighten up again. Dr. Weimer was brimming over with sympathy. Danny was so furious, he was shaking now. Whatever else Wo Fat could be, he was fundamentally a fucking sadist who got his jollies from watching people suffer. Interrogating Steve for information had given way to torturing McGarrett purely for the pleasure of making him twitch and whimper. Williams couldn’t function if he let himself get too deep into the thought of how powerless he really was to prevent someone from hurting his partner. If Steve hadn’t fought back with all of his animal cunning, he wouldn’t have been here now. End of story. 

“I’m sorry, Detective. I know how hard this is.” 

“Do you?” 

“I have every idea,” she said in complete seriousness. Danny didn’t argue. 

“Who does this to another human being?” he growled. 

“I can’t answer that question. I’m a doctor, not a psychiatrist. But I suggest you find one. A very good one. The Commander is going to need someone to talk to.” 

Danny steeled himself before returning to Steve’s side. McGarrett had both legs pulled up on the bed again. He was hugging his knees, huddling under the blankets. 

“Babe, are you cold?” Danny laughed away the lump in his throat. 

McGarrett slid both legs down, and put his bare feet on the floor. He wanted to stand up from the bed, but he couldn’t manage it. 

“What do you need, babe? Don’t get up. I’ll bring it to you.” 

“Gotta pee,” Steve mumbled shyly. 

“Okay. You got me there. Up on three?” 

Danny put both arms around Steve, and hauled him upright. Took the opportunity to hug him. Steve shuddered and almost fell face-first. 

“Are you hungry?” Danny asked. It was taking forever to shuffle across the room. Steve moved stiffly. Every step he took hurt him, but it hurt Danny even more. It was hard to help Steve cross the room without at least putting an arm around his waist, but it was clear McGarrett was recoiling from human contact if he could. 

“Yes,” Steve nodded. 

“You want me to order in some takeout?” 

“I don’t think the hospital would go for that,” Steve frowned. 

“A steady diet of jello and fruit cups is not going to get you back on your feet. You need some meat. A burger. A plate of wings. A steak?” 

Danny guided Steve into the tiny restroom, and closed the door, waiting outside. He continued to talk in a loud voice. 

“What are you in the mood for? I bet the Doc wouldn’t mind. We’ll cut her in if she hasn’t had lunch yet.” 

Danny heard the toilet flush, heard a rush of water, then a loud crash. He knocked. 

“Steve?!”

No reply. 

Danny opened the door. Steve was down on his knees, face pressed against the front of the sink. Both hands were clenching the porcelain tight. Danny helped Steve back to bed, and returned for several damp wash cloths. He stopped halfway there, remembering the pile of rags listed in Chin's report. How was he going to do this without freaking Steve out? Tread very carefully. He dropped the soggy pile on the untouched breakfast tray, and washed Steve’s hands with the first one. Tossed it aside. Reached for another wash cloth in the soggy pile. 

"Can I wash your face for you?" Danny asked, wringing out the cloth, making sure it wasn't dripping. He had used hot water. Steve was smiling a little. He took a cloth from the pile, wringing it out. 

"I can do it. I look pretty bad, huh?"

"I've seen worse," Danny lied, taking Steve's other hand, washing his forearm. Steve took a stab at washing his own face. "You missed a spot," Danny murmured. He started at the top bruise on his brow, and began to slowly and meticulously wash Steve’s face. McGarrett closed his eyes and lifted his chin. As much as he disliked being touched, he did his best to endure what Danny wanted to do.

“Your eyes look hazy. Did you get dizzy in there?” Danny asked. 

“Mm hmm.” 

“You're gonna have to pace yourself.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed shakily. 

“You need food. When was the last time you ate?” Danny grumbled, pushing Steve’s black and blue legs back under the blankets and tucking him in securely. 

“Why am I here?” Steve wondered. "Why are you here?" 

Danny rubbed under McGarrett’s scruffy chin, studying his face. 

“What? What kind of question is that? I'm here because I'm worried about you, big lug,” Danny murmured. 

“How did I get here?” 

Danny sat down with a thump. Almost missed the bed. His butt had to backtrack to get a grip. He bit his mouth closed, blinked back tears, and tentatively took one of Steve’s hands. He’d already washed them once, but he wanted to hold them for a moment. 

“What’s the last thing you remember, babe?” 

Steve had to really think about it. His brow furrowed. Dr. Weimer returned on quiet feet to the doorway. She was jotting notes on her clipboard. 

“I was feeding my cat,” Steve answered. His words were stretched out long and thin, like it hurt to speak almost as much as it hurt to move. 

Danny’s face went from woe to mirth and back again. He scrubbed gently at Steve’s dirty nails. 

“Steve, you don’t have a cat.” 

“No?” 

“No,” Danny confirmed tenderly. Steve was genuinely confused. Danny washed Steve’s face again. 

“Are you sure?” McGarrett demanded, batting the hand away from his face. 

“I’m pretty sure you don’t have cat,” Danny smiled, tossing another wash cloth aside and collecting the next. He scrubbed Steve’s other forearm, worked up his elbow, up his bicep, worked around the bruises and the bandages. 

Dr. Weimer had listened to their exchange without interrupting. She and Danny shared a very concerned glance. 

"Commander, it's not unusual to experience trauma-induced amnesia when it comes to situations like this. I don't want you to be alarmed."

"Sure," Steve replied. Danny knew that tone. Whatever Steve was willing to admit was going on wasn't half of what was actually going on beneath the surface. This did not bode well. 

“Hey, Doc. We were going to order takeout. You interested?” Danny asked her. Fran shook her head no. 

“Sorry. I’ve got a compound fracture coming into surgery in about half an hour. I’ll have to leave you two to your own devices. You can use my name to get the order through security if you want though."

“Tell me the truth. Did I do something stupid?” McGarrett wondered. He was not comfortable with the way Danny and Dr. Weimer were staring at him. Dr. Weimer moved back from the bed, glancing over the charts, walking over to inspect and adjust the window blinds. 

“Why do you ask?” Danny wondered. 

“You sound mad."

"I always sound mad," Danny avoided the question. 

"Are you mad at me?” McGarrett murmured. 

Danny wanted to burst into tears. He was having a hard time swallowing around the lump in his throat. 

“I am not mad at you, babe.” 

“Are you sure I don’t have a cat?” Steve pressed. 

“Swear to God. You do not have a cat,” Danny laughed. 

“Can I go home today?” Steve hoped. “I do feel better.” 

Dr. Weimer cleared her throat, and fought with herself not to pet Steve affectionately. Danny did not remind him that it wasn’t five minutes ago he was hugging the bathroom sink, unable to stand on his own. 

“Commander, you can go home soon, but I’d like to keep you under observation for a few days." 

As soon as Dr. Weimer was out the door, Steve snorted darkly and mumbled to himself. 

“We’ll see about that,” he threatened, eyes darkening like an afternoon storm.


	3. Chapter 3

Danny had gone to sleep holding Steve’s hand. The hospital room smelled like an Italian restaurant – there were remnants of sauce and pasta and garlic bread everywhere. Crumbs in the bed. There were red and white checkered boxes in the garbage. Danny went to sleep smiling, and woke up beside an empty bed. 

Sheer panic flooded him like a lightning strike. 

Dr. Weimer heard Danny scream out, and she came running. 

Hospital security was alerted at once, but that did nothing to quell the terror in Danny’s soul. They searched the hospital from the top floor to the basement. Steve was nowhere in the hospital, nowhere on the grounds. 

Danny called Chin and Kono, and the cousins helped mobilize an expanded search. HPD units spread out over the entire island. Danny drove meticulous patterns down every street within the ten blocks closest to the hospital. How far could Steve had gotten in such a short amount of time, given his diminished physical condition? 

Danny found nothing. The burning hole in his stomach grew larger and larger with each passing second. The fear and the terror were bearing down hard on him.

He was racing down King Street, headed for the 5-O offices, thinking maybe that’s where McGarrett had slipped away to, when Chin’s voice came over the open phone he was holding.

“Hey, Danny?” 

“I’m here!” 

“I don’t know if this means anything, but there’s a report coming over the police scanner. A mostly-naked guy is prowling through some lady’s bushes on Piikoi.” 

Danny’s relieved laugh ended in muted sobs. 

“Meet me at Steve’s house,” Williams ordered. 

There were no lights on at the McGarrett residence, but the front entrance had been left wide open. Chin and Danny came through, weapons drawn. They met Kono at the base of the stairs. Water was running in the shower on the second floor. An IV needle and tubing were draped over the banister. A hospital gown was lying on the landing. 

“Just when you forget your boss is a government-trained ninja,” Kono whispered, tucking away her gun, shaking her head. 

“Okay,” Danny nodded, stowing his weapon, heaving up a shaky sob. “That wasn’t any fun. I call first dibs on kicking his ass for this when he’s all better.”

“I call seconds,” Chin agreed, stowing his weapon as well. 

Danny was mentally kicking himself. He should have expected this. He really should have. If he had been in his right mind, he would have started the search at Steve’s house. What the hell had he been thinking? 

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Kono said, giving Danny a tiny bump with her shoulder. 

“We should take him back to the hospital,” Chin decided. 

Danny and Kono stared at him skeptically. 

“We should,” Chin insisted. 

“We all know that’s not happening. I’ll dry him off and tuck him in bed, keep an eye on him. You wanna call the doc and let her know we found him?” Danny murmured. 

“Sure,” Chin agreed. 

“Oh!” Kono jolted. She spun away from the stairs, eyes like discs. Although the shower was still running, there were big feet padding across the hallway upstairs. Chin was smiling at Kono.

“Good thing you’re not a werewolf, cuz.” 

“What?” Danny frowned, peering up the stairs. 

“Full moon. AOOOOO,” Chin teased Kono gently. 

“What are you, twelve?” Kono teased back. 

Chin patted Danny’s shoulder. 

“The Big Kahuna is all yours. We’ll call off the search and hold the perimeter.” 

“Thanks,” Danny sighed. He headed up the stairs. He turned off the shower, grabbed a couple towels from the towel bar, and followed the wet footprints to the master bedroom. 

McGarrett had made it as far as the bed, barely. He was sitting on the side of the covers, looking confused in the dim light beams from the hallway. 

“Steve? It’s me. It’s Danno.” 

Williams pushed the door open. He draped one towel over Steve’s middle, and took one of his hands with the other towel. 

“You scared the hell out of me. Next time, wake me up before you sneak out. Okay?” Williams complained as he gently dried Steve off. 

McGarrett blinked at Danny, and dropped his chin to his chest. He nodded silently. He was reacting like a whipped puppy, and Danny felt miserable for chastising him even a little. Williams gave the towel a quick shake, and smoothed it over Steve’s wet head and ruffled hair. 

When McGarrett started in surprise, Danny pulled the towel away. Williams sat down, his weight making the mattress dip. 

“It’s okay. You’re all right,” he soothed. He waited for Steve’s trembling to stop. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to spook you. Okay to proceed?” 

Steve curled up against himself, arms around his arms, knees up. Danny dried off Steve’s shoulders and back. Dried his legs and feet. Stood up, and kissed the stitches on his forehead. 

“Stay there. I’ll find clothes,” Danny ordered. 

One teeshirt and a pair of old sweats later, and Steve was beginning to look like himself again, aside from the stitches and the bruises and the hollow eyes. 

“Hallucinations…” Steve whispered. 

“What’s that?” Danny asked, bending down to see his face in the dim light. 

“It wasn’t real.”

“What wasn’t real, Steve?” 

“My dad.”

"No, babe, he wasn't real," Danny answered sadly. He pulled the covers back. Steve crawled in, and flopped down on his stomach. Danny crawled in too. Stormy-hazel eyes studied Williams for signs of danger. He must have passed the test, thank goodness. Steve yawned, and stared at him unsurely though. 

“Whatever else you’ve been seeing, I’m real. Do you understand? This is real. Your bed is real. I'm real. Me being pissed at you for sneaking out of the hospital? That's real too. You’re safe now. Go back to sleep,” Danny soothed, reaching a hand over, petting Steve’s arm. 

McGarrett mumbled softly, “I want my dad. But he wasn’t real. You were there. You should have told me." 

“I was there?” Danny asked. Steve nodded. 

"Why didn't you tell me it wasn't real?" 

"I'm sorry. You're right. I should have told you. I should have known," Danny agreed. 

Williams hoped to hell that in whatever hallucinations McGarrett had been having, that the other Danny had not been doing any of the torturing. He couldn't bear the idea even for a second. He shifted up onto one elbow on the far side of the bed. 

“Steve? Is it okay I come closer? I'd like to hug you, in a brotherly way.”

“No,” Steve whimpered, eyes wide suddenly, hand up between them. Danny caught his breath in surprise and actual physical pain. 

“Okay…okay…shhh….” Danny whispered. 

“He wasn't real. None of it was real. None of it,” Steve chanted sleepily.

“Well, I mean, some of it was real.” 

Danny regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Steve gave him such a confused blink. 

“Which parts?” he asked. 

Danny was dumbfounded, and blinking back tears. "All the bad stuff? That wasn't real," Williams offered weakly. 

Steve didn't believe him for a single second. McGarrett scratched at the stitches on his forehead, and sighed heavily.

"Don't lie to me."

"Wo Fat is dead. That part is real," Danny promised. 

"I'm'a wanna put a couple clips into him, just to be sure," Steve whispered. 

"Babe, if it makes you feel better, I will even load the gun for you," Danny grinned. Steve hummed a tiny smile, and closed his eyes. The smile faded slowly. He was biting his bottom lip as he drifted to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Danny awoke to an empty bed. Again. He screamed out. Again. 

He was down the stairs in a flash. There was an empty can of tuna on the counter top. Coffee was brewing. The back door was open. 

Williams hurried outside. He almost tripped over a black and white Tuxedo feline resting on the porch stoop. She was short and fat, with an abbreviated tail. There was an empty saucer on the steps which smelled of canned tuna. Danny and the cat both gazed out into the dawn coming up over the water. A dark haired figure was visible in the surf. 

“Steven,” Danny sighed. 

Williams sat down on the steps, and stared at the cat. She stared back. Danny had the feeling she was smiling at him, but that might have been an illusion fostered by the shape of the white blaze on her face – an upside-down heart that fit imperfectly over her mouth and nose. She was wearing a bright blue collar. Danny lifted her tag. It was not Steve’s phone number on the reverse side.

“Hi, Mimi,” Danny whispered. “Just visiting, I take it?” 

She meowed in reply, and toddled down off the porch, disappearing through the trees on the right side of the yard. Danny carried towels down to the wooden chairs by the edge of the beach. 

Steve did not emerge from the surf upright and glorious as was his usual form. He crawled out, completely exhausted, and flopped face first on the sand. His black and blue limbs were extended everywhere. The water withdrew and rushed back over him several times. 

Danny sighed his impatience and brought a towel over. The surf rode up Steve’s body again. McGarrett lay there like a stranded piece of battered seaweed. 

“Do you need help?” Danny wondered.

McGarrett lifted his head, shook it, and dropped it down again, getting sand all over his other cheek. The surf traced loving fingers over him, almost up to his shoulders. Steve rolled over, sighed tiredly, and stayed where he was. 

“Mmm’mahalo, Danno,” he hummed. 

“You’re welcome. You gonna come back to bed?”

“Mm hmm,” Steve nodded. 

“Where did the cat come from?” 

“What cat?” Steve replied, a tiny grin hitching up the side of his mouth. 

“Asshole,” Danny whispered with affection.


	5. Chapter 5

“I think I’ve got an ear infection.”

Steve reported the news quietly to Dr. Weimer, who was standing beside the couch in the living room, peering into his ear with a scope. Danny was nearby in the kitchen, making himself busy with whatever he could lay his hands on. 

“Yes. A small one. The antibiotics should clear that up. How are you feeling otherwise?” 

“Better,” Steve insisted. Dr. Weimer put away her ear scope, and tentatively took out a small pen light. “Sorry about last time,” McGarrett added quietly. 

“No apologies necessary. Commander, you are not the first patient to take a swing at me.”

“I just…..saw the….and…I….”

“I understand,” Fran murmured, not without a bit of a smile. “You need to communicate to me if something I do upsets you. Preferably before I do it.”

“He’s not good with communication, Doc,” Danny called out. “Sure I can’t get you a cup of tea?” 

“I’m sure. Thank you though. I need to examine your pupils, Commander. It’s called a swing test. I need to see if your pupils react equally, if they constrict normally. An abnormal reaction can be an indication of a head injury, bleeding on the brain, or a neurological injury. Here, scoot over a little,” the doctor said. She sat down on the sofa facing him. “Does it put you more at ease if I’m not looming over you?” 

“Yes,” Steve whispered. Dr. Weimer picked up one of the small pillows off the sofa, and put it into Steve’s grip. Danny watched McGarrett’s big hands curl tightly around that small pillow until he was sure it would explode into a thousand, marshmallow-foam fragments and ribbons of fabric. The doctor made quick work of the pupil test, and put the light away again. 

“As far as I can tell, your pupils are reacting normally. There appears to be no lasting neurological damage, and you don't have any concussion symptoms.”

“Almost back to normal,” Steve insisted. 

“Tell me again about these hallucinations? Have you had them since you came home?” 

“Only when I take those.” Steve pointed at one of the bottles of medication on the coffee table. Dr. Weimer collected that bottle, examined the label, and tucked it into her lab coat. 

“I’m waiting for the final toxicology reports on the blood samples that we took, but the continuing hallucinations would seem to indicate whatever you were injected with hasn’t worked completely out of your system. The medication was prolonging these symptoms, meaning whatever you were given might have been of a similar chemical compound. Interesting.”

“A little less Star Trek, a little more English?” Danny pleaded, coming closer. 

“Stop taking the pain-killers. Continue taking the antibiotics. If you experience any pain that Tylenol won’t diminish, let me know, and I’ll find an alternative for you.” 

“Understood. Does that mean I can go back to work today?” 

Dr. Weimer had started to stand up, but rethought that, plopping back down. 

“Commander, you need to rest. I’ve recommended at least a week off, bare minimum. I’d like you to take at least two weeks, but I know nothing short of broken bones and full-body traction is going to make that happen.”

‘Yeah,” Steve acknowledged with a little grin. 

“One week.” 

“One week minus three days?” Steve bargained. 

“One week, from the day I decide you’re pink and healthy again.” 

“Oh.” 

“For the ear infection alone, you should be taking a week off.” 

“I’ve had them before. It’s not that big a deal.”

“When have you had one before?” 

“The first time was when we had to ditch a damaged plane in Northern Sweden, and walk twenty miles to a base. We didn’t have cold weather gear. We all came down sick. And the other time was another……” Steve hunted for words, brow furrowing. His eyes went nervously to Danny, and came back to Dr. Weimer. “Another misadventure like this one. That time was much worse. Believe me. This was nothing. I’m fine. It’s a little ear infection. No broken bones. No parts missing. I’m fine. Can we just….can we just cut the melodrama, and let me get back to doing my job?” 

“ _‘Misadventure’_?” Danny seized on the word. He wanted to make a joke. He wished he could have made a joke. But his heart was sinking, and his stomach was burning, and he couldn't bring himself to even try to make a joke. 

“You want me to talk to someone? Fine. You want me to cry? That's not going to happen. Not for you or anyone else. People deal differently with these situations. You must know that,” Steve’s anger was beginning to rise. Dr. Weimer frowned, but didn’t match his ire with her own. 

“Yes, people do deal with trauma differently.”

“I bet if you stuck Danny in the same situation, sorry, Danno, only an example, that he and I would have totally different reactions.” 

“I’m sure we would,” Danny agreed. 

“Yes,” Dr. Weimer nodded. "That doesn't mean you should box away your feelings and pretend you're not having them." 

“Look, if I don’t get bent out of shape, or hide under the furniture, and start sucking my thumb, it doesn’t mean I’m not dealing with this, okay?” 

“I never said that you needed to suck your thumb or hide under furniture." 

Steve heaved up a sigh and blurted, “I can deal with pain. Pain doesn’t bother me. Sitting here feeling useless while there are people out there like Wo Fat, hurting other innocent people? That makes me angry.”

“Seven days, Commander. Indulge yourself in a small break. We'll try to hold the island together in the meantime.”

“Seven days, minus three days, because I’m fine. I don’t need you to hold my hand and tell me it’s okay to be upset.” 

“Seven days,” Dr. Weimer said firmly. 

“This isn’t even remotely the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” Steve pouted. "Can we stop acting like it's the end of the world? I'm fine." 

“I’ll see you tonight. It’s going to be a beautiful morning. Go for a drive.” 

“God, yes,” Steve said, rocketing up off the divan. He was out the door, shirtless and barefooted, before Danny or Dr. Weimer could stop him. Danny nervously scratched the back of his neck, loitering around the living room as the doctor collected her folder and notes. 

“Sorry, Doc. He can be impatient when he doesn’t get his way,” Williams offered. Dr. Weimer grinned at him. 

“Not my first rodeo with a stubborn patient,” she laughed gently. “You should hurry.”

“I got his keys, Doc. He ain’t going nowhere without me,” Danny smiled, shaking a trouser pocket. 

“What about your keys?” she asked, peering around his shoulder. 

“Fuck a duck,” Danny blurted as the Camaro left the driveway at approximately warp five. 

"Go on. I'll lock up," she said. Danny was out the door in the shot.


	6. Chapter 6

Chin Ho Kelly was one of the coolest, calmest people on the planet. Even he nearly fell over when Steve came striding into 5-0 in his sweats, bare-footed, shirtless, and grumpy as all hell.

“Hey,” Steve nodded casually, going straight into his office. 

Kono peered around the corner at Chin, waiting for her cousin to pick his jaw up off the floor. 

“At least he’s got clothes on,” Chin offered Kono. She raised her brows, peered into Steve’s office, and turned away again. 

“Did the doctor clear him for duty?” 

“I think we both know the answer to that question,” Chin mused. 

McGarrett emerged in less than two minutes, wearing cargo pants and a gray teeshirt, and stomping his big feet into spare pair of combat boots. He was carrying an armload of files. 

“I’ll be around if you need me,” Steve murmured, patting the phone bump in his side pocket before walking back out the door again. He went down the other set of stairs, with good reason. 

“STEEEEEEEEVE!” Danny screamed, racing past the office doors without even stopping. 

“Do they ever stop fighting?” Chin murmured. 

Kono snorted, grinned, and turned to her cousin. "I think it's foreplay. Should we call someone?” 

“Who?” Chin laughed. 

“They are making a scene in the parking lot,” Kono whispered, peering out the window. 

“What else is new?” Kelly sighed. “Let them yell at each other until they get it out of their systems.”

“Danny took Steve’s files away.”

“Yep.” 

“Steve just clocked Danny in the face.” 

“Yep.” 

“Danny kicked Steve’s feet out from under him. They’re rolling around out there on the asphalt like a couple of idiots.” 

“Ah, hell,” Chin frowned. 

“This is embarrassing.” 

Chin came over to watch. “Why hasn’t Danny cuffed him?” 

“On my way down,” Kono blurted, heading out the door on light feet. 

Chin wasn’t more than a few second behind Kono, but by the time he got down to the parking lot, all the excitement was over. It looked like an evidence room had exploded next to the Camaro. Danny was cuffed, and sitting on the hood, blood dripping from the cut below his left eye. Steve was cuffed, and sitting on the ground by the back left tire, heaving for breath, kicking his boot heels impatiently into the rough ground. 

“You better uncuff me, Kono. Right this second,” Steve warned. 

“There is no talking allowed in time-out,” Kalakaua snapped as she made her way around, picking up photos and witness statements. “Look at this mess! It’s going to take days to sort this out!” 

“I am so not kidding around,” McGarrett growled venomously. 

“Shut it!” Kono exclaimed furiously. McGarrett backed up into the tire to get away from the pointing finger she put in his face.

Chin helped Kono collect the file contents from the ground, and eye-fucked anyone who stopped long enough to stare at the two officers cuffed against their own vehicle. 

“Who wants to go first?” Kono asked, sitting down on the ground between the two men where she could face them both.

“He started it!” Danny and Steve shouted in unison. 

Chin hung his head and turned away, fighting a grin. Kono glared for a second at her cousin before pointing to Danny. 

“Tell Steve you’re sorry for taking his files.” 

“Go to hell,” Williams growled. 

Kono appealed to Steve. “Tell Danny you’re sorry for hitting him.” 

“Next time, I’m going for your knee,” Steve growled. 

“Neither of you is going to move an inch until you apologize,” Kono scolded. “If you’re going to act like toddlers having a tantrum, that’s exactly how I’ll treat you.” 

“This…this is…oh my god,” Chin gasped, rising to his feet. 

“What?” Kono asked. Chin clutched the two files in his grip in his chest, and literally raced back into the building, babbling and cackling. “Why do I always have to be the adult here??” Kono complained. 

“I’m not apologizing. He’s smothering me. I don’t need to be babied. I need to get back to work,” Steve grumbled. 

“I’m smothering you? I’m smothering you??!?” Danny exclaimed. 

“I don’t need you to hold my hand!” 

“How about if I hold your throat? Would that be all right?” Danny shouted back.

“Did your doctor clear you for duty?” 

“Yes.” 

“YOU GODDAMN LIAR!” Danny howled. 

“In seven days,” Steve added. “I came to get cold cases to look at in the meantime. No point in wasting a week.” 

“That sounds reasonable. You can have the cold case files. In seven days, you can come back to work. In the meantime, I don’t want to see you here,” Kono said. 

“Fine,” Steve pouted. 

“You? You need to go home. Take a nap. Give Steve some breathing room.” 

“You can have all the fucking breathing room you need, babe!” 

“Fine.” 

“Fine!” Danny echoed. 

“Boys, I have not yet heard the magic words.” 

“I’m sorry I took your files,” Danny blurted begrudgingly. 

“I’m sorry you’re an overbearing Italian grandmother.” 

“You see what I have to put up with?” Danny howled to Kono. Kalakaua booted Steve in the leg with her foot. 

“That is not how we make nice, Steven.” 

“I’m sorry you’re disappointed I’m not a sobbing, delirious mess over this,” Steve added venomously. 

“I don’t want you to be a sobbing mess!” Danny exclaimed. “I want you to be okay. I want you to admit you’re human, and that you’ve got feelings, and that this might have been a scary, scary moment for you. Even if it’s only a misadventure that doesn’t rank among your top ten. I don’t want you to bottle this inside, and six weeks down the road, totally flip your wig and shoot somebody who says or does the wrong thing. That’s what I want, Steven. I want you to be okay, really okay, not just ‘I’m not dealing with this because it hurts too much so I’m putting it in a box’ okay. I don’t want you to pretend you don’t have feelings, because feelings are too messy and awful to deal with. I just….God, Steve…” Danny sobbed, bowing his head, climbing down off the car, sliding to the ground. “I care about you, goddamn it. I want you to be okay.” 

Steve glanced sheepishly at Danny as Williams pulled up a knee to wipe his wet face and nose on. 

“Sorry, Danno,” Steve whispered. 

“Why do you have to be such a stubborn ass all the time?” Danny whined. 

“Why do you have to be such a girl?” Steve complained. Kono booted him in the leg again. “Ow…” 

“Why can’t you fucking let down your guard for five seconds?” 

“Why can’t you stop overreacting to this, and just let me be?” 

“Because letting you be means enabling your self-destructive behavior, and I’m not going to do that.” 

“How is it self-destructive to come pick up cold cases to glance through while I’m on medical leave? How is that at all self-destructive?” Steve wailed. 

“All I’m saying,” Danny pouted. 

“Fine.”

“Whatever.” 

Kono reached over and released Danny. He leapt to his feet, dried his face again, and kicked the first file he came to.

“You’re an ass, McGarrett. I’m trying to help.”

“You’re smothering me!” Steve exclaimed. 

“I’m not going to let you push me away. I know that’s what you want. I know you want to hide down in there, and pretend this never happened, but I’m not going to let you do that. Do you hear me?” Danny growled. “I will make you deal with your feelings even if it kills us both.”

“Danny, go home,” Kono said. “Danny!”

Steve gave a genuine start of alarm when Williams abruptly jumped down beside him next to the car. Danny got in between Steve’s knees, and slid both arms around him, and pulled Steve’s face against his shoulder. 

“Stop…..” Steve growled hatefully. 

“I love you. I care about you. You’re still an ass. I’ll see you later tonight. Dr. Weimer will be there at six. So will I. Because I’m going to tell her exactly what an ass you’ve been today, and I’m going to ask her to tack on another couple days to your sentence, just because I know it’ll piss you off.” 

“Fuck you,” Steve mumbled, resting his forehead against Danny’s shoulder. 

“Then, when the doctor leaves tonight, I’m going to cuff you to the divan, and make you watch every tear-jerking, cinematic masterpiece of the last sixty years, until you’re sobbing like one of those kids out of Old Yeller. How’s that grab you, SEAL boy?” 

“Fuck you,” Steve repeated more softly. 

“And if that doesn’t get your waterworks going, I’m going to get real ugly.” 

“Give it your best shot,” Steve muttered. 

“I will take the gloves off entirely after that,” Danny warned, pulling slowly away only to reach back and dot a kiss on Steve’s forehead. 

“I hate you when you’re like this,” Steve frowned. 

“Velveteen Rabbit,” Danny murmured. McGarrett’s eyes got very large for a moment before collapsing to dangerous slits. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

“Oh, no? You think? The hell I wouldn’t. I’ve got worse than that up my sleeve, babe. Don’t press me. You think you’ve been tortured? You ain’t never seen torture till you piss me off, and I get my hands on you.”

“Give him another hug. He’s starting to cave,” Kono urged. Danny snuggled in closer, and squeezed with all his might. Kono reached around Steve and hugged him from the side. 

“Can you just…hey, that’s enough,” Steve growled. "People are staring......" 

“You take him home. I’ll hit the bookstore,” Danny ordered Kono. 

“Are you two fuckers going to uncuff me anytime soon?” Steve muttered from down below. 

“When I get you home,” Kono promised. 

"Yeah? You better be ready to run when these babies come off," Steve warned. 

"Someone needs another hug," Kono threatened.


	7. Chapter 7

Danny arrived at 5:59. Dr. Weimer’s car was already there. Danny clutched his recycled-burlap-weave bag to his chest, and hurried inside. 

“It actually looks worse. Could you maybe wear earplugs if you’re going to swim?” Dr. Weimer pressed. 

"Sure,” Steve agreed with the world's most dramatic sigh. He looked up at Danny as he came, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “I already told her what you did to me,” McGarrett muttered. 

Dr. Weimer tried to look sternly at Danny, but her eyes were twinkling at him too brightly for him to take offense. 

“Oh, babe. This morning wasn’t even my best. I’m just getting warmed up for round two.” 

“Bring it on,” Steve purred. 

“I know a good couple’s therapist if you need her number,” Fran offered. 

“Already got one. Thanks,” Danny murmured. 

“What’s in the bag, Nana?” Steve asked Danny. 

“A cattle prod. Maybe even some bamboo splinters.” 

“You two play nice,” Dr. Weimer said, taking out her stethescope. She touched Steve’s shoulder, and he sat up straighter. She listened to his lungs, her face serious for a few seconds. 

“Did you search the whole store for the one bag that said exactly what a weak kneed pussy you really are?” Steve burbled playfully at Danny. 

“This?” Williams smirked. He lifted the bag, patted the kitten face, and set it in Steve’s lap. “It’s for you.” 

“I’m sure it’s going to come in handy, the next time I need to start a bonfire,” McGarrett murmured. 

“Go ahead, tough guy. I bought seven of them. I’ve stashed them in strategic locations. I talked to the lady at the bookstore, told her all about my little problem, and she had the perfect book for me. For you, I should say,” Danny could not stop smiling. 

“Commander, get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Right. Okay. Thanks, Doc,” Steve replied. Danny walked Dr. Weimer to the door, patting her arm. 

“Thanks, Doc.”

“You two have a good night,” she urged. “Don’t beat him up too badly.” 

“Nope. He’d only enjoy that. I have far worse things in mind,” Danny promised. He returned to find that Steve was yawning, eyes drooping. McGarrett scratched absently at his bad ear, but dropped the hand quickly. 

“Here,” Steve said, giving Danny the bag. 

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Danny pressed.

“No. I’m too tired to fight. Can we pick this up later? Like next year?”

Danny stuck a hand in the bag, and pulled out a bright pink book with two bears on the front cover. Steve’s sleepy eyes narrowed.

“The fuck is that?” McGarrett muttered. 

“Hug Therapy by Kathleen Keating.” *

Steve was rolling his eyes after the first word fell from Danny’s mouth. 

“Are you kidding me? Is that a real thing?” Steve pouted.

“This, my friend, is one of the best books ever written in the history of all humankind.”

“War and Peace. Cold Mountain. Hug Therapy? No,” Steve replied. He stifled another yawn. 

“I am going to read this to you, cover to cover, every night, for seven days.” 

“Are you?” Steve whispered dangerously. Danny sat down, nestled right up against Steve’s side, and opened to the first page. 

“What’s more, I’m going to give you homework. So pay attention, babe. It's even got illustrations, for those who are slow to learn."

Steve sighed, and rested his head against the back of the divan, slouching and scooting forward until his neck wasn’t tilted at a bad angle. He stuck his feet on the coffee table, and put an arm around Danny’s waist. 

“Go ahead, Nana. I’ll try to stay awake.” 

“ ‘….because we are all holding each other through a dance of joy and love….’ ” Danny began.

**Author's Note:**

> One of the best episodes of the series. My only two quibbles are 1- Kono deserved so much better, and 2 - Steve had no PTSD afterwards.
> 
> "Hug Therapy" by Kathleen Keating is a real book. And it's awesome. I want to hug her just for writing it. Used without permission.


End file.
